Maps
by typicalhigh
Summary: Post-'Shalom'. Goodnights and goodbyes.


**maps**  
_NCIS;_ Gibbs, Abby  
1,525 words, G

Goodnights and goodbyes.

* * *

**Also:** Post-'Shalom'. My canon's rather fuzzy regarding the ending, so let's all pretend Gibbs went to say goodbye to at least one team member at the end of the episode? Also, unbeta-ed. It's been on my hard-drive too long and I couldn't muster up the effort. Feel free to rip into this.

* * *

Close to eleven in the evening, and Abby was finishing up her duties in the forensics laboratory, before finally being able to go home, and catch up on sleep she'd been missing out on for the past three days. Their case had been solved; Ziva's name had been cleared and she was now (relatively) fine and at home, and the bad guys (or girl, in this case) rightfully in prison. Which she was happy about.

But now that the rush of working on a case had faded, now that they had all the time in the world, Abby found that she wasn't sure where she really stood with Gibbs. Gibbs, who'd left the close-knit team four months ago for the beaches and cantinas of Mexico. The hurt of being abandoned was still fresh - sure, Tony had done a really, _really_ great job with the role he'd found suddenly thrust upon him, but there were so many moments where all of them would feel Gibbs' absence sharply. It was too sudden, too soon and Tony was wonderful, but he definitely wasn't Gibbs. She spun around on her chair as she waited for the computer she was seated at to shut down fully, watching her feet and the room spin around slowly.

He'd come back so suddenly, out of nowhere. Ziva had managed to track him down, thirty thousand miles away, convinced him to come back and save her. She'd done what Abby had wanted to do for so long, over those months of purgatory, inertia. He was probably gone now - on his flight back home. She bit her lip at the thought.

And there was also the issue of finding out about his first wife and daughter, and having those long, long four months to process the information that made Abby feel the gap between them even more acutely - she wondered whether Gibbs had dealt with everything he'd left behind in Washington, D.C. after that terrorist explosion. She also wondered why he'd never bothered to mention that to any of them. It was as if leaving for Mexico was Gibbs' way of running away from all his problems, and Abby didn't like it when people hid from their problems instead of dealing with them. She was a hands-on kinda girl.

Just as she was about to turn around, the doors of the lab slid open with a quiet hiss, and through them, she could hear the all-too familiar strides of a former Marine making their way towards her.

"Hey, Abbs."

She froze. He hadn't left yet, after all, and it seemed that Gibbs had saved his last goodbye for her. The easy familiarity of his greeting tugged at her heart. She didn't turn around; she kept her shaking hands busy with the lab reports, or whatever the papers in front of her were. _What the hell was up with her?_ she suddenly wondered. _This was_ Gibbs _they were talking about!_ She shouldn't be feeling so insecure around him! They had two years between them in which they'd had the time build up the comfortable friendship they shared, which she'd gotten so used to, so familiar with.

_But that was it_, she realised - maybe it was selfish of her, considering everything that happened, but the fact that he'd left all of them - _her_ - behind so easily, without a backward glance had hurt like hell. And she'd point-blank refused to believe he wouldn't come back: of course their absence from his life would eventually pull him back to NCIS! He'd miss them, eventually. The others had believed it at first too, but as time had slipped through their fingers, as they dealt with new cases without the comfortable leadership of their old boss, one by one they'd built themselves some construct they called acceptance over time.

Well, maybe he had come back, in the end - they'd gotten a reprieve for a little while. Gotten to hug him, ask him how Mexico was and incidentally, what was up with the pirate haircut? It'd been nice - but he was leaving again, so what did it matter?

He waited beside her, as if letting her follow her thoughts to their ends. She could feel his breath on her bare shoulder, and she pursed her lips, still not looking directly at him. He waited patiently.

She finally decided that she couldn't really ignore him any longer without seeming rude.

She wanted to say "I wasn't kidding when I told McGee I was pregnant with your kids."

She wanted to say "Tony and McGee have been buying Caf-Pows for me since you left, and Ziva bought me donuts and candy the other day, and actually, it's kind of weird how nice she's been to me lately, so neeneerneer, I don't need you anyway."

She wanted to say "I hate you and how could you have possibly called yourself a special agent when you were such a scaredy-cat that you ran away from all of us, and hey! By the way, I hope you die slowly in a pit of lava at the mercy of your other three ex-wives but definitely not Shannon!" _That'd be a pretty low blow,_ she thought, so she rejected that one almost immediately, and felt guilty for thinking up something so mean in the first place.

Instead, she exhaled, not feeling any of the tension coiled beneath her skin leave her, and got straight to the point. "Wow, I was wrong about you, Gibbs - you _are_ a bastard after all!"

He sighed, looking as if he had been expecting this. "Here I was, thinking my forensic scientist might be happy to see me again before I leave for Mexico again."

The use of the possessive was like a punch in the stomach. He seemed to realise what he'd said, from the way he pursed his lips, but didn't take it back. She glanced at him, and for a second really saw the loneliness in Gibbs' eyes.

She looked as if she was deflating, folding into herself as she turned away from him, trying to hide from his gaze. "No need to draw it out, Gibbs, I get it. You're going. Bye, see you in another twenty years!"

"Abby," he begins. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," she felt her dismissive facade begin to dissolve, "it's a—"

"Now where have I heard that before?"

There was a pause, in which Abby had absolutely no idea to say. The awkward silence loomed between them, strange and foreign. She was uncertain and felt the need to grab onto something, anything.

"Ducky bought me candy, too," she said, in an attempt to fill the silence as fragile as glass.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, utterly unreadable. "Well, maybe you don't need me after all."

"Damnit, Gibbs!" she burst out, grabbing his wrist and turning to face him properly. Gibbs' lack of anger, his typical conviction in himself was curiously absent and this total absence of reaction made her want to dig deeper, find answers, comfort, _anything_ that would allow her to deal with this. "I missed you so much! Didn't you think any of us might appreciate you even trying to keep in contact with us?" _It'd been almost like losing Kate all over again,_ she thought, but wouldn't verbalize.

And this time, it had very nearly threatened to break her.

He looked genuinely regretful. "Abs," he said, and paused. Gibbs was a man not accustomed to admitting fault or weakness - if there was one thing Abby knew, it was this. "You know I couldn't."

She looked down at the floor again, chastised, the weight of the truth heavy upon her shoulders. She was weary and wanted very much for the entire world, except for this, to fall away, leaving this moment suspended in time.

"Don't leave," she said quietly, knowing full well it was hopeless. She could hear the low hum of the lights above her, louder than her breaths.

He took her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her. She leant in and curled her fingers around his arms. He smelled like sawdust and, less familiarly, the sea. "I'm sorry," she said, voice muffled against his chest, "Really. About everything."

She could tell that she didn't need to say anything else. His arm was resting on her waist and she could almost taste his absence, feeling sure that his thoughts were probably with the fifteen years past, somewhere in the lost and dusty places where Kelly and Shannon were tucked away. Places she knew he could never reach her from.

"Don't you have a flight to catch?" she asked, quietly.

"Yeah," he managed, voice low and hoarse. She managed a tiny smile, letting go of him. He brushed a thumb over her cheek. "You know I'll be back."

She quirked an eyebrow and broke into a grin. "Oh, you _will._" He smiled back, the first genuine one she'd seen from him in ages, and she took his hand in hers. "Come on," she said, "I'll drive you to the airport."

She shut off the lights and led him out.


End file.
